This Thing Called Life
by warrior4
Summary: Life is full of ups and downs and Jim and Pam discover from their first meeting onwards. Cross posted on MTT.
1. First Meeting

A/N; _Welcome to my new multi-chapter story. Standard disclaimer applies as always. I don't own these characters and make no money off them. Thanks again to_ Hilariter _for beta-reading._

* * *

"Shoot! Stop! Grab them!" A honey brown-haired girl was clawing forwards to reach the glasses that had slipped past her fingers. From the way she was stumbling it was clear that her vision without the glasses was severely lacking.

The hallway outside the Valley View High School gymnasium was slowly starting to empty after the home team Cougars had defeated the Invaders of West Scranton. The glasses in question had skittered to a stop near where the visiting basketball team was starting to emerge from their locker room right below the "Winter Formal '97" banner. Before she could reach them, she heard a crunch and the sound of the boys laughing. As her heart fell she heard a separate voice speak up over the hum.

"Hey, not cool man."

A blurry form stooped to pick up the broken pieces of plastic off the floor. "Sorry about that, some of the guys on the team turn into real jerks after a loss."

Before she could formulate a response two more blurry forms swooped in and started slapping the boy who had talked to her on his chest and back.

"Hey, way to lose little bro!"

"Yeah man, you know what they say, close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades."

"Since we don't have any grenades this will have to do!"

The young man in question immediately had to cover his face as his brothers' slaps exploded into clouds of cloying stink powder. He did his best to protect the glasses so the pungent grit wouldn't get on them. Setting his jaw, he frowned as his brothers ran off laughing. Looking around he saw the girl who had obviously lost the glasses standing a short distance away.

"Sorry about those two and the smell. Those were my older brothers and they're the self- proclaimed kings of practical jokes. I think these are yours?"

"Thanks," she said with a shy smile as she took them back and tried to fit the broken ends of her glasses together. "Stupid things are always slipping off my face. I had a pencil behind my ear and was going to move it when they just flew off my head." She didn't know where it came from, but the simple act of kindness he had shown her had burned away the dread that had started to fill her as soon as she heard the stomp of the sneaker that had shattered her frames.

"Don't mention it. Hey, wait a sec, weren't you the one who was sketching in the stands during the second half?"

She felt her cheeks flame. "Yeah, it's just a hobby of mine. Dorky, I know. I mean really, who does that?"

"Jamie! We gotta get going! Stop fraternizing with the enemy and get on the bus!" The voice of the boy who had crushed the glasses echoed slightly across the hall.

He looked over his shoulder to where his teammates were starting to file out the doors to their bus. "I gotta get going...I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."

"It's Morgan," she answered.

"Morgan," he tried it out. "Cool. If I ever see you around you gotta show me what you were drawing." He was starting to walk backwards to the exit.

"Yeah sure," she called after him. A soft, "see ya," escaped her lips as he turned and jogged to catch up with the team and disappeared past the double doors leading outside. She didn't know why but she suddenly felt a little sad that he had left.

She was still standing there when she heard an excited squeal and felt the form of her best friend Isabel collide into her side and grab her arm. "Morg! Who was that cutie?"

Morgan couldn't help it and felt herself grin. "Oh, just a guy from West Scranton."

"Going to see him this weekend? I know for a fact you have no plans. If you say no, I swear I'm going to set you up with the first guy who talks to you. Or maybe you'll finally say yes to Roy. I heard he wants to ask you out again."

"Nice try. Didn't get his number or anything. Who am I kidding anyway? He'll probably forget all about me before he gets back. Probably has a girlfriend or something. Besides I don't even know what he looks like. It was literally all just a blur, and that was before his brothers showed up and covered him in a stink bomb. As for Roy, yeah, he's nice and all, but I don't know. " She took a deep breath.

"Boys," they said at the same time.

Isabel brightened up at once and quickly shouted. "Jinx! You owe me a Coke!" The look of shock was clear on Morgan's face. Isabel was delighted. "Hey, don't blame me. Once an oboe player, always an oboe player and it was you who said the rules of jinx are unflinchingly rigid."

The two girls made their way over to the concession stand. Morgan's look of dejection only grew as the cashier rolled down the metal door closing up shop just as they approached. Isabel only grinned mischievously. "Oh, this is going to be fun," she told her friend."

They turned to leave when a new voice called after them. "Hey, Morgan! Wait up!"

Roy Anderson was jogging to catch up to the two girls. He was slightly breathless and flushed with excitement. "Hey, just wanted to know what time I should pick you up for that hockey game tomorrow?"

Morgon felt her brow furrow. She hadn't actually agreed to go with him to the minor league game. The fact that he was simply assuming it was a foregone conclusion that she'd go with him irked her. For once in her high school life she was relieved for an excuse to keep quiet. The feeling didn't last though.

"Pick her up at six." Isabel told him. Morgan's eyes grew wide and she wordlessly gaped at her friend.

Roy however was beaming. "Great! See you then!" He dashed off to continue celebrating the recent win with the rest of his teammates.

Isabel only smiled at her friend as she started to drag Morgan to the parking lot to her car so they could drive home. Morgan was sure there was steam rising from her head as Isabel started the car and made her way into the traffic leaving the school. They only paused on their route for a quick pit stop at a gas station.

"Coke! Go!" Isabel pointed to the racks of red and white bottles inside.

A quick trip inside and Morgan was back and officially un-jinxed. "What did you do that for!"

"What?" Isabel asked with a smile. "Can't say I didn't warn you."

"I don't know the first thing about hockey!"

"What's to know? Hit the puck with the stick. Get it in the goal. Do that more than the other team. Cheer for the Penguins. Pig out on soda and nachos, nothing to it."

Morgan didn't answer her. Rather she crossed her arms over her chest and sulked. She didn't hear the protestations of her friend that one of the cutest boys in their school had asked her out, that she would have a great time, that she needed to promise her to call as soon as the game was over for every juicy detail of the date. Instead she just looked out the window as the blurry scenery of Archbald drifted past. She let her thoughts go back to the memory of the first guy who had ever said anything nice about her sketching, and her regret that she didn't even know what he looked like.

It was a strange sensation she was feeling. It was warm and comforting, like when she would wrap herself in an old blanket and re-read some of her favorite books. There was also the hint of butterflies in her stomach that she found pleasantly surprising. _No guy has ever stood up for me the way he did. We don't even go to the same school. It was his own teammate that crushed my glasses and he still was on my side. Who does that? I wish I could have seen what he looked like. Maybe I should just get the stupid contacts. It was really nice that he did that. I'll have to get some of this down in my journal later._

She was too lost in her thoughts to hear Isabel's final comment as they pulled into her driveway. "After all, what could go wrong?"

* * *

"Hey, what was up with that dorky girl with the glasses?"

Jamie felt anger rise in his throat for the second time that night. He turned around in his seat to face the other boy. "You heard her, Wes. It was her only pair of glasses and you deliberately smashed them."

"After the way their center smashed your nose on the last play it was only fair that we get some payback!"

"By going after someone who had nothing to do with that? That's not payback for anything. That's just you being a jerk, again!"

Wes narrowed his eyes. "Say that again."

Jamie had no intention of backing down. He was team captain, not the stocky underclassman facing him. There was no way he was going to let a bully like this get away with anything while he had anything to say about it. "I said you were being a jerk. Just like you were when you were kicking balls away from the freshmen at practice. Or the time you snuck back into the locker room early and threw everyone's winter coats in the shower right before practice was cancelled for that snowstorm. Don't even get me started with the crap you pull outside of practice."

"Huh," Wes was unimpressed. "You prank people all the time, what makes you so different than me?"

"I don't intentionally try to ruin other people's things, or try to hurt them, and I only prank my friends or people I know can handle it. Not random strangers. So, I'm telling you here and now. Knock it off."

"Or what? You going to fight me? Kick me off the team? Mister-goody-goody-Boy Scout doesn't want me picking on the poor girl from the other school. What you going to do about it?"

Jamie only steeled himself further on hearing the mocking tone. What he wanted to do was sink his fist in Wes' face, but he knew that would only get him kicked off the team. Glancing around he saw his own varsity squad now looking in on the argument as well as a few members of the junior varsity team. The weight of his role as team captain forced him to keep his tone calm.

"You'll find out when we get back to school." Turning back around he missed the sneer on Wes' face but did hear the cutting remark.

"Yeah, right. You won't do shit. Just like you always do."

 _Okay, that's enough._ The thought reverberated in Jamie's mind and he got up from his seat to make his way to where their coaches were sitting near the front of the bus.

"Coach Weller, can I talk to you quick?"

The head coach looked up from his clipboard and the discussion he'd been having with the JV coach. "What's up, Jamie? If it's about that last play I assure you I'm going to put in a grievance with the referee association. That was a flagrant foul if I ever saw one. There was no way they should have missed it."

"It's not about that. It's about Wes." Jamie told him about the incident with the glasses and a host of other bullying activities. The coaches listened quietly until Jamie was finished. They were quiet for what seemed like an eternity. Coach Weller who finally spoke up.

"What have you always told me is your least favorite drill?"

"Wind sprints," Jamie told him.

"Okay. What's my one rule for this team?"

"'Win together, lose together, one team, one goal.'"

The coach took a breath before he spoke again. "There were two mistakes made tonight, Jamie. The first is Wes' behavior if it's true. The second was yours."

Jamie was a bit taken aback. "What did I do?"

"You knew this was going on and didn't tell me or any of the other coaches. Making a mistake is one thing. You make another mistake if you try to cover up the first. How are we supposed to fix any problems if we don't know there are any?"

Jamie's throat tightened. "I understand," he croaked out.

"Thank you for telling me this though. It is important. We can't have this kind of behavior." The coach dug his cell phone out and Jamie saw him punch in the number for the freshman squad coach that was in the bus behind the varsity and JV teams. "You can head back to your seat," Coach Weller told Jamie when he saw the young man was still there.

The walk back to his seat was harder. Jamie had an idea what was coming. Rather than think about it he tried to distract himself with something, anything. Staring out the window his thoughts went back to the game that night. _How could anyone just keep drawing in the middle of a game like that? That's dedication for sure. I wonder what it was she was drawing. She had really pretty eyes. Snap out of it, she doesn't go to your school and you'll never see her again since we only play Valley View one time in a season. She probably has a boyfriend anyway. Do I know anyone at Valley View who might know her? No, I don't know anyone at Valley View._

Lost in his thoughts, he was oblivious to the rest of the basketball team on the bus with him. All to soon they arrived back at their own school. It was the habit of the coaching staff to schedule an hour after any game to head back to their locker room to go over the game so they would know what to work on in practice for the coming weeks. Coach Weller didn't bark out his usual command to head in for the debriefing when they arrived though.

"Varsity team, head to the locker room and get changed back into your game gear. Be on the baseline in five minutes. JV, front row of the stands. Freshmen behind them." Ignoring the questions and comments from the players, Coach Weller walked off the bus and headed inside the doors of West Scranton High School. He unlocked the doors to the gym and turned on the lights. Five minutes later the fifteen players that made up the varsity team were lined up at the end of their home court with the fifteen members of the JV squad looking on from the stands. The twenty-five players of the freshman team filed in and took their seats as well.

"What's my one rule!" Coach Weller shouted to the three teams.

Fifty-five teenage voices shouted out together the mantra their coach had drilled into them every day at practice. "Win together! Lose together! One team! One goal!"

The coach began pacing in front of the varsity squad like a general inspecting his troops before battle. He took his whistle out of his pocket and wrapped the string around his hand. His voice wasn't harsh or cruel, just loud enough for everyone in the gym to hear him clearly. "I want you to think about that long and hard, gentlemen. You know the drill. On my whistle; you have forty-five seconds to run from the baseline to touch the near free throw line and back, touch the half court line and back, touch the far free throw line and back, and touch the far baseline and back."

 _Tweeet!_

The varsity squad took off on their first wind sprint. They did their best to hustle up and down the court, bending down to touch the floor at each spot their coach had called out. When they were all back after the final race across the length of the court Coach Weller was on them again.

"Win or lose, you will always conduct yourselves as champions!"

 _Tweeet!_

"Never, for one instant, forget that the name on the front of your jersey is more important than the one on the back!"

 _Tweeet!_

"Being a varsity player means you're supposed to be the best this school has to offer. Prove it not to me, but to yourself!"

 _Tweeet!_

"A real champion is the one who builds not only his team up, but those who will replace him one day!"

 _Tweeet!_

"He shows respect to his school, his coach, his captain, his teammates, his opponents, and most importantly those who are looking up to him!"

 _Tweeet!_

"And in so doing, earns respect for himself!"

 _Tweeet!_

"He is humble in victory and gracious in defeat!"

 _Tweeet!_

"He accepts the consequences of his decisions, both good and bad!"

 _Tweeet!_

"This is the standard I hold you to, gentlemen."

 _Tweeet!_

"A standard that two of you have failed to meet!"

 _Tweeet!_

"Win together! Lose together! One team! One goal! When one of you fails, you all fail!"

 _Tweeet!_

"One of you has already had the courage to admit his failure. If he wants to stop he can."

Jamie knew the coach was talking about him, but he also knew his responsibility was to lead his team. Gasping down what air he could he set his feet as the whistle blew again.

 _Tweeet!_

For the next forty minutes, Coach Weller ran the West Scranton varsity basketball team up and down the court. After a week of practice every day after school and a hard game that night the time limit for the wind sprints was already daunting, and only grew worse with each blast of the whistle. As he'd done before during this drill Jamie's mind searched for something else outside the world of basketball to distract him from the burning in his legs and rasps of his breathing. It settled on a green-eyed girl from Valley View with curly hair. With that image fixed in his mind the pain in his legs and chest seemed just a bit lighter.

Finally, Coach Weller put his whistle back in his pocket and walked over to where the JV coach was sitting. He grabbed a small book offered him and started flipping through the pages. The varsity team was spent. Many of them had collapsed on the floor trying to suck air into their lungs. Still when their coach called them, they obeyed his instruction.

"On your feet gentlemen. James Halpert! Front and center!" The boy in question walked on shaky legs to face his coach who was standing in front of the other two teams on the benches. "So everyone can hear you, read the underlined part of the Player Code of Conduct."

Jamie took the book from his coach. He had his breathing mostly under control by this time. "Any instance of prohibited behaviors shall be reported to coaching staff immediately."

"Has there been instances of prohibited behaviors you've failed to report?"

"Yes, Coach."

"Why didn't you report them?"

"I wanted to protect my team. I didn't want to get anyone in trouble."

"Tell the team what you told me on the bus." In no uncertain terms, Jamie recalled what had happened after the game as well as the other infractions he had seen Wes commit. When Jamie was finished he addressed the young man again. "Being the leader means you have to make the right choice, Jamie. Even if that choice is hard or unpopular. You had the opportunity to save your teammates and others from hardship but you didn't. Do you understand?"

"Yes, coach."

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

Jamie looked back at the varsity team, who by now were mostly recovered, and then back to the other students in the stands. "I let you down, guys. I thought I was protecting you, but I had it backwards. I'm sorry I let it happen. It never will again as long as I'm your captain."

"Good. Back on the line."

Coach Weller turned to the line of varsity players again. "Wesley Patterson! Front and center!" When Wes was also standing in front of the other teams his coach addressed him.

"Your captain has accused you of multiple Code of Conduct violations. What do you have to say for yourself?" Wes didn't answer. Rather he kept his eyes on the ground. Coach Weller wasn't about to let him off the hook. His voice was deep and low. "I asked you a question, young man, and you will answer it."

"You can't prove anything. There's no cameras around. It's my word against his."

Coach Weller wasn't fazed. He turned to the other two teams. "Raise your hand if you were a witness to the actions Wesley is accused of committing."

Every hand of the students went up. They had seen what would happen if they failed their coach's standard.

"Fine! Yeah, I did all that stuff," Wes finally admitted.

"Why? And 'I don't know' is not an acceptable answer."

"I thought it was funny."

"What about the freshmen whose practice you interrupted? Or your own teammates who had to go home in a blizzard without a coat? Or the girl earlier tonight? Do you think they thought it was funny? Again, 'I don't know' is not an acceptable answer."

Wes' shake of his head was hardly perceptible. "I guess not."

"You're on the bench for the next two games."

"What!" Wes was outraged. "How come Jamie isn't riding the bench! You just said he was guilty too! My dad has college scouts coming to the next games! You can't do this to me!"

"You are not in charge of this team or this program, young man, I am!" Coach Weller's voice finally had a hint of anger in it. "This team is not just about you, it's about all of you! Your captain ran the same sprints you did. He had the courage to come to me first and admit his mistake, and he also cared enough about this team to apologize for his failure. There's a word for that, it's called integrity. If you want to get back on the court, show me you have the integrity to support your teammates from the bench."

Wes only muttered something under his breath. Coach Weller's keen ears heard it easily. "If you have something to say, tell it to your team."

"I said this is total bullshit!" Wes roared back at him.

Coach Weller only narrowed his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was as hard as steel. "Take off that jersey, leave it here with me, and head back to the locker room. You're off this team."

"Fine!" Wes peeled the West Scranton jersey off the undershirt he was wearing beneath it and threw it down angrily. He stalked away in the direction of the locker room.

When he was out of the gym Coach Weller looked around at the other students who had watched. "I wanted you all to watch that. The Player Code of Conduct is something I and the other coaches take very seriously. What you just saw were two young men who both had made mistakes while on this team. One, learned from his mistake and is still here. The other hasn't learned anything and is gone. Mistakes are going to happen, gentlemen. That's called life. We don't run from or hide from our mistakes, we learn from them, otherwise we'll just keep making the same mistakes again and again."  
With a final scan across the players of all three teams Coach Weller finished his speech before he dismissed them for the night. "Remember this night, gentlemen. Remember so that when it's your turn you know what choice to make."

* * *

"Hi honey. How was the game?"

"We won, but one of the players from the other team broke my glasses." Morgan's response to her mother as she came back home was decidedly dejected.

"What?" Helene Beesly came rushing to the front door of their house as Morgan was clumsily putting her shoes away.

"They flew off my head right after the game ended and got stomped on."

Helene inspected the broken frames Morgan had presented her. "We'll go see about getting these fixed in the morning. Do you know where your spare glasses are?"

"In my desk drawer," Morgan replied.

"Stay here. I don't want you to hurt yourself bumping into anything."

Helene was back shortly. Morgan was finally able to see clearly again and the first thing she noticed was the concerned look on her mother's face. "It was just some stupid jock from the other team, Mom."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she remembered she also had to tell her mother of the change in her plans for the next evening. "Roy Anderson is going to pick me up around six tomorrow to go see a hockey game."

"Oh!" Helene brightened up considerably on hearing that news. "That sounds fun!"

"I guess so. Mind if I use the computer for a bit?"

Her mother didn't mind. Morgan was sure her mother was already mentally planning her wedding. It seemed she always did that when Morgan showed even a passing interest in any boy. Shrugging it off Morgan walked to the living room where the family desktop was kept. Soon she heard the familiar start-up tones of Windows 95 and the screeching noise as their dial-up modem connected to the internet.

Morgan wished she could have her own computer, rather than having to share one with the rest of her family. But computers were expensive and she didn't have a phone outlet in her room anyway to be able to get online. She logged onto a chat room her church youth group had helped set up. It was one of the few chat rooms her father's web filters hadn't blocked. Area churches had set up the site to offer a "clean and safe" alternative from other internet chat rooms. To Morgan however there was little difference between the conversations she heard in her school cafeteria and the words scrolling across her screen. Still she did enjoy that online, no one knew she was just another dorky girl in the crowd. She saw mostly familiar screen names, but a new one caught her eye.

 **Artfan12:** Looks like we got a new face in the crowd tonight. Welcome bballer.  
 **Bballer04:** Thanks. Didn't know what I'd find coming in here. Seemed interesting.  
 **Artfan12:** If you consider mostly harmless conversations on the latest bands interesting.  
 **Bballer04:** Could be worse things to talk about.  
 **Artfan12:** So bballer, how come you're here in a lowly chatroom on a Friday night? No parties to head off to?  
 **Bballer04:** Oh I'm sure there are, but I'm in no condition. I'm on my school's basketball team and we lost. Our coach had us doing wind sprints for what seemed like forever after we got back so I've got a ton of ice packs on my legs.  
 **Artfan12:** What's a wind sprint?  
 **Bballer04:** Basically you have to run up and down the court a whole lot and they suck.  
 **Artfan12:** Sounds harsh. Does he always do that when you lose?  
 **Bballer04:** No part of it was my fault. One of the guys on our team has been a real jerk over the season. I knew about it but didn't say anything. But tonight, I couldn't help it. He crossed the line and I had to say something.  
 **Artfan12:** What happened?  
 **Bballer04:** We had an away game and as we were coming out of the locker room afterwards he stomped on the glasses of one of the girls who went to the home school. I gave them back to her and told our coach on the bus ride back to our school. Long story short he got kicked off the team. Later the coach told me that only a few of the wind sprints we had to do were for what I did. The rest were because of what he did.

"No way." Morgan was sure her eyes were bugging out of her head. As the conversation had lengthened she ignored the other conversations that were going on in the chat room. The butterflies were back. Her fingers were shaking as she typed a reply.

 **Artfan12:** Wnt to pone a prive winow?  
 **Bballer04:** What?  
 **Artfan12:** Sorry, my fingers were shaking on my keyboard. I asked if you wanted to open a private window?  
 **Bballer04:** Uh...sure.

Morgan clicked on the icon to send an invite to join a private window where none of the others in the chatroom could see what they typed. When the window popped up she was pleased to see the other screen name there waiting.

 **Bballer04:** What's up?  
 **Artfan12:** Um...this is kind of awkward, but by any chance am I talking to Jamie from West Scranton?  
 **Bballer04:** Yeah, how would you know wait a sec. Is this Morgan? Were those your glasses?

 _He remembered my name!_ Morgan felt a grin bloom across her face and she lightly bit the end of her tongue as she typed back.

 **Artfan12:** Yeah, they were.  
 **Bballer04:** Wow! No way! Did you get home ok, I mean obviously you did or you wouldn't be on a chatroom.  
 **Artfan12:** I rode with a friend to the game and she drove me home. Thanks for sticking up for me. That was really nice.  
 **Bballer04:** Anytime.

Morgan was usually very talkative on chatrooms, but for once she didn't seem to have anything to say. She started at her screen blankly until a new message popped up.

 **Bballer04:** Still there?  
 **Artfan12:** Yeah, I'm still here. And don't worry to much about the glasses. I have a spare pair. I'm thinking I may want contacts anyway.  
 **Bballer04:** That would make it easier to keep that pencil behind your ear. Also I was being serious. I would like to see what you were drawing. Must have been good to keep your attention during a basketball game.  
 **Artfan12:** It really wasn't anything important. Sorry to tell you but basketball's never really been my sport. I was on the volleyball team, but I sprained my ankle really bad on our first practice which pretty much sidelined me for the season.  
 **Bballer04:** That sucks. Sorry to hear that.  
 **Artfan12:** Thanks, but it gives me more time to draw.  
 **Bballer04:** So back to the subject, would you be free tomorrow night for a private drawing exhibit? We could meet at the mall in the food court and get something to eat too.

 _Did he just ask me out?_

 **Artfan12:** I wish I could, cause that sounds nice, but I already have plans for tomorrow night.  
 **Bballer04:** Could I get a rain check?  
 **Artfan12:** Sure.

 _Why can't all boys be this easy to talk to?_ Morgan thought as Jamie started asking her more about why she like to draw. For the next hour the conversation flowed easily. She in turn asked about his love for basketball.

 **Artfan12:** Hey sorry to say this but it's getting kinda late and I'm sure my parents are going to kick me off the computer soon. Again, thanks for what you did.  
 **Bballer04:** You're welcome. See ya later

Reluctantly she logged off and made her way down to her room. After changing into her pajamas and crawling under the covers of her bed she opened the journal she's been sketching in during the basketball game. Rather than writing out her thoughts, the pages were filled with doodles and images from what had happened during the day. Before she went to sleep a basketball player with the number 4 and the name Jamie on his back were added to the other images she'd drawn.

A/N: _Reviews are always welcome._


	2. Nights to Remember

A/N; _If there is anything here similar to other "Office" fics please know it's not me intentionally copying anyone._

* * *

"Do a barrel roll!"

Even before the order came in over the radio Fox McCloud had jammed the control stick to the right while keeping his left foot on the rudder to keep the nose in line. Enemy laser bolts bounced harmlessly off his Arwing's G-diffusor shields as his own lasers continued to charge. The sleek starfighter's nose came back in line and the targeting computer secured a lock on the enemy formation ahead. As another enemy volley was fired, Fox hit the firing button on his own control stick. The charged laser blast shot out and vaporized the lead ship and the resulting shock waves took out the rest of the formation. Fox didn't have time to celebrate. Hundreds of other drone ships still faced him and his small squadron, and drones or not their lasers burned hot and lethal.

The distress call from General Pepper has blasted through the speakers of Great Fox leading to a mad dash to the launch bays. Sensor scans had showed that the main Cornerian Army had fallen for a diversionary force and Corneria City was now under direct attack from legions of drone fighters and tanks. Plotting a course for the heart of the enemy, Fox had led his flight of four starfighters straight into the thickest pack of enemy craft. The sentry ships the enemy had stationed over the ocean had fallen quickly. The city scape they flew over was a filled with smoke from earlier attack runs. Taking a deep breath, Fox kept his hand light on the stick. As his own fighter screamed over the capital his own lasers turned more and more drones into junk. The computer in his fighter kept track of his shield level and his scanners were constantly searching for areas where the underlying rock was venting pockets of the special gas his G-Diffuser could use to recharge his shields. The gas pockets were displayed as silver and gold rings on his heads-up-display to give him an easy target to fly through.

Fox always believed in leading from the front and so flew his Arwing into the heaviest concentration of enemy drones he could find. He wasn't able to shoot all of them down but was confident his squadron mates would be able to handle what slipped through. For their first major action they were performing well. The simulator, with its new FX chip was good, but there was no way it could simulate the feeling of actually flying in combat. This time though, there would be no extra lives, it was just him in his cockpit versus the robotic armies of Andross.

While he was rolling out of another enemy attack, Fox glanced up and saw a huge war machine flying over the hills. Before he could start to track it, his radio blared to life again.

"Follow me Fox!"

Looking through his canopy Fox saw his primary wingman Falco dive to fly under some stone arches protruding from the sea. Shaking his head at the cocky pilot Fox guided his own ship after his teammate. Emerging from the last arch Fox had to squint as he saw the boosters of Falco's ship flare to life.

Fox keyed his own radio. "Falco! Where are you going?"

"I found the target! Try to keep up!" Falco's response was almost washed away as he flew through a waterfall and emerged into a deep canyon. It took all of Fox's piloting abilities to fly a safe path through the canyon that was filled with still more enemies. Finally, the canyon emptied out over the sea again. Before he could take a breath to calm his nerves, the war machine he'd seen earlier was suddenly in front of him. While Slippy analyzed the shields of the huge ship in front of them, Fox checked the systems in his fighter. He was pleased to see they were still in top shape and he had a full rack of smart bombs on board.

The final battle didn't last long. Between Slippy's diagnostics and Peppy's advice Fox was able to target the weak points of the enemy ship. Before long, his own weapon system had reduced it to scrap metal.

Fox nodded with satisfaction and pulled his Arwing into a climb to allow his scanners to search for any new targets. Finding none he keyed his radio again.

"All craft report in."

One by one his squadron reported back to him. Minimal damage only that could be easily repaired once they were back onboard Great Fox. He was about to hit the boosters of his own ship when a new voice came over the radio.

"Jamie! Are we going to go or what?"

With a lurch Jamie pulled himself back into his real surroundings. He shook his head as his score scrolled across the screen and the animated starfighter hit its boosters. He saved his game and turned off the console and TV before turning back to the sound of his sister's voice that had called him from the doorway.

"Yeah, I'm coming Larissa." He stood up from his chair and adjusted the bowtie around his neck.

"Very stylish Jamie," Larissa told him as she pinned a boutonniere to the lapel of his tuxedo.

"You as well," he replied as he slipped a corsage over her wrist.

"You know you still don't have to do this," she told her brother.

"What and let some creep take my kid sister to prom? Good luck with that." Adopting a mock formal tone raised his nose in the air and held his arm out. "Shall we?"

Larissa only laughed at him but did slip her arm through her brothers. "Let us shall," and they made their way down the stairs of their home.

Their mother met them at the base of the staircase, camera in hand. "It's just so sweet of you to take your sister to her first prom," she gushed. She snapped photo after photo before Jamie was able to get her to stop.

"Mom! I think you've got enough. We need to get going anyway. I told Mark we'd meet him at the restaurant in twenty minutes."

Jamie escorted his sister out of the house and held the passenger door of his car open for her. Together they made their way to Coopers Seafood House. They along with Jamie's friend Mark and his date, Emily, were easily the most overdressed party at the restaurant. They didn't care and we able to just enjoy a nice dinner between the four of them.

Halfway through the meal Emily leaned over the table. "Larissa, you've got to tell me why your brother is taking you to prom. And don't give me the protective older brother thing. There's got to be more to the story than that."

Seeing that her brother currently had a mouth full of soft-shell crab, and thus unable to defend himself, Larissa's eyes twinkled with mischief. "It's cause he's broken hearted over a girl!"

The two girls immediately started laughing at the reactions of their dates. Jamie had started coughing loudly and almost choked. Mark had just turned to his friend with his jaw hanging on the ground.

Emily thought this was the best news ever. "What?! Aww, Jamie that's so sweet. Just like out of a movie or something. Who was she? Did you take her out? What was she like? Details man!"

Jamie glared for a second at his sister who had a huge toothy grin on her face. Resigning himself to his fate he sighed. "Oh, go on then. Tell them all about it. Maybe this will be the last time."

"Are you kidding? I'm going to be telling this story forever," Larissa beamed back at him before turning to the other two. "So, it was last January and Jamie had just lost a basketball game. He was coming out of the locker room and one of his teammates crushed the glasses of this girl at the school they were at. So, what does my noble big brother do? He's about to hand them back when our older brothers cover him in this stink bomb powder they've cooked up. I was about to go see him but there was no way after that. I mean imagine a cross between a skunk, rotten eggs, and a decaying moose and you'll have an idea of how bad he was smelling.  
"Well the girl in question must not have a sense of smell or anything because she was just standing there, looking at Jamie here. Of course, they didn't stay long because Jamie's coach had them heading for the bus right away. But here's Jamie walking backward down the hall, not breaking eye contact, when _WHAM!_ He finally turns around and runs right into the door of the school!"

"I did not run into the door!" Jamie protested.

Emily and Mark were by now seemingly dying from laughter. Larissa just patted her brother on the arm. "Hush brother of mine, I'm telling a story. So, after he gets home he's literally limping back in the door because he can't get this girl out of his head."

"I was limping because I'd spent almost an hour doing wind sprints!"

Larissa by now was ignoring his interruptions. "He gets online and low and behold she's there on this local chatroom and they end up talking online for like hours and hours. What was it you said after that Jamie? 'Why can't all girls be this easy to talk to?'"

"It was only about one hour and I didn't even know it was her when I logged onto that chatroom."

"That still doesn't explain why you're here with your sister and not this mystery girl."

Larissa was about to start the tale again, but Jamie got there first. "I've got it from here. I did try to find her again, but I never could. I only got her first name and then the chatroom got hacked and eventually taken down. What was I supposed to do? Drive across town during lunch and ask around some other school about a girl?"

"It would have been so romantic," Emily told him.

"It would have been creepy and would have probably landed me in jail. I can see the headline now. 'High school basketball star arrested for stalking.'"

"You tell it so boringly," Larissa told her brother. "Anyway, after that there's not a girl he even looks at anymore. I mean, him! My brother, basketball team captain, jock extraordinaire, and all around great guy Jamie Halpert loses all interest in any other girl that goes to our school. And at home? You gotta be kidding, all he does is spend hours playing Star Fox or Goldeneye." She turned to her brother. "Earth to Jamie! You can't spend your life locked in your room pining after The-Girl-That-Got-Away."

Jamie knew she was only teasing him based on the overly dramatic way she had clasped her hands over her heart. He didn't regret asking his sister to prom and he had known full well she'd launch into this particular story. "'Tis better to have loved and lost, then never have loved at all," he said while raising his water glass to take a drink.

"Weak defense man," Mark told him. "Get that off a Hallmark card?"

"I'm not going to win this one, am I?" Jamie asked forlornly.

Emily reached across the table and gave his hand a friendly squeeze. "Sorry, no. Might as well just throw in the towel. It is very romantic though. But just imagine telling this story years from now to your wife or kids."

"Yeah, that's just what I'll want to do. Poor girl would probably either run away screaming since I wasn't her one and only love or run to the kitchen for a cleaver and hack me to bits for cheating."

They all caught his sarcastic tone of voice and ended up laughing it off. The conversation soon turned to other topics as they continued to enjoy their evening. It was only later while Jamie was slowly rotating in a circle with Larissa during a slow song that the topic came back up.

"Hey, you okay? You seem a little down." Larissa asked her brother.

"It's just that story. I'd never tell Mark, or anyone else for that matter, but I am a little sad I could never get back in touch with Morgan. She seemed really nice."

"Hey, don't worry about it bro. I'm sure she was really nice. If it helps I'll stop bringing it up so much."

He nodded. "Thanks."

"I'm a little sad too. After all my best big brother is heading off to college next year. I'll be all alone at home. I mean who's going to be there to talk to you about stuff like this?"

"I'll still visit! Penn State's not that far away."

"I guess," Larissa shrugged. "But seriously, I don't want you to live your life in the past. I mean you haven't even gotten a haircut since this whole Morgan thing."

Jamie shook his head playfully. "Oh, I don't know. I think the shaggy look is growing on me."

"Not the point. Just promise me you won't pass on what's in front of you for what could have been."

"Deal," he told her.

"Good. So, how does it feel being big fancy new Jamie?"

He laughed at his sister. "Kinda, weird when you put it like that. How am I supposed to be this new more mature person when everyone is still calling me Jamie like I'm still in first grade."

"Fair enough. James then?"

"No, to formal."

"Okay, well how about Jim. Simple, short, easy to spell, even for you."

"Sounds good. You're a good sister, you know that?"

"Duh! If you haven't noticed, I'm the best!"

Jim laughed again at his sister as the music ended. The rest of the night went by easily for the two before he finally drove her home.

* * *

Morgan had to admit to herself, she was having a good time. Roy had pulled out all the stops to make her senior prom memorable. The evening had started with a limo pulling up in front of her house. He'd posed for every picture her mother and sister had taken after slipping a simple but elegant corsage over her wrist. The dinner at the steakhouse with the friends they'd met up with had been wonderful as well. He'd even been the one to suggest her family join them to take more pictures at a nearby park after they finished their meal. There had only been one sore spot in the form of his older brother Kenny.

He'd met them at the park with a camera in hand. "Mom wanted a few pictures," was all he said in way of greeting.

Raising the camera, he tried to get Morgan and Roy in frame. "Hey D.B. could you scoot over a bit more?"

Morgan's mother had never heard her daughter referred to as such. "D.B.? What's that supposed to mean?"

Before Morgan could stop him, Kenny was answering. "Death Breath," he said matter-of-factly. Seeing the shocked looks directed at him he clarified. "You know, cause her name's Morgan. Morgan, morgue, Death Breath."

"Actually Kenny, that's enough!" Morgan was looking at him with a stern expression on her face. "I don't want you calling me that anymore. It's not nor has ever been funny. In fact, I don't want to be Morgan anymore. From now on it's Pam."

Seeing the shocked looks on Roy and Kenny's faces was somehow thrilling. Ever since the disaster that had been their first date Pam had to deal with the derogatory nickname. She wasn't going to stand for it anymore.

"You sure about that honey?" Pam's mother asked.

"Yup," Pam nodded confidently. She turned to her date. "Got that? No more Morgan or Morg, or D.B. or any of those other nicknames you two have called me since January."

The expression on her face told him she wasn't kidding. "Got it," was all Roy was able to say back.

 _Feels good standing up for myself for once. Who ever said a girl needs a guy to rescue her?_ Pam thought as Roy's arms circled her waist for a few more pictures. She was also pleasantly pleased that Kenny had somehow found the good sense to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the pictures. Soon she and Roy were back in the limo and heading to the ballroom her school had rented for the prom.

"You sure you're sure about this whole name thing Morg-I mean Pam?" Roy asked her.

"Yeah, I am. After all Morgan's my middle name anyway. My parents once told me they started calling me Morgan after my sister Penny was born so they didn't have to worry about two girls with "P" names."

Soon their limo had dropped them off. Roy checked with the driver to confirm what time he would be there to pick them up after the dance. He held his arm out of her and they made their way inside. Isabel rushed up as soon as she saw the pair.

"Hey! Oh, wow Morg! You look great! And you finally got those contacts! When were you going to tell me?"

Pam was about to tell her friend of the recent name change, but Roy beat her to it. "Actually Isabel, she wants to be called Pam from now on."

Isabel leaned back in surprise. "Whoa! New dress, new look, new name! Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?"

"It's still just me, just different me," Pam told her friend.

"Right," Isabel said skeptically. "Sorry Roy, I know you guys just got here but I'm going to steal her away for a moment. Girl stuff." Without waiting for an answer Isabel hooked her arm through Pam's free elbow and led her away to the ladies' room. "Ok, dish," she demanded once they were inside.

"What's to dish?" Pam shrugged. "It's not like I'm asking to be called something that's not my real name."

"In all the years I've known you, you've always been the quiet, shy, predictable girl. There's something going on here. Oh my gosh, you haven't started sleeping with Roy, have you? Is that what this is about?"

"God no," Pam denied. "You've met my meemaw, she'd kill me if I ever did anything like that. If you must know it was actually because of Roy's brother."

"Finally got sick of being called Death Breath then?"

"You try being called that for four months every time he sees you and see how long you last!"

"Fair enough."

Pam turned to look in the mirror. Her hair had always been naturally curly, but this was the first time she'd taken the time to accentuate those curls with her sister's curling iron. She was still getting used to the idea of being able to see clearly without her glasses. To her eyes her face looked empty without the frames. Isabel caught her gaze in the mirror.

"For the record, you look great without the glasses. You've always been so pretty it's time to let everyone see what you were hiding under those things."

"Thanks, I'm still getting used to all this though."

"So, has Roy actually asked you to be his girlfriend yet? This is what like the third of fourth date?"

"It's our second first date," Pam told her.

"You're going to have to explain that one to me."

"Remember that hockey game you set us up on?"

Isabel looked down. She'd been the first to hear of how badly it had gone. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"Well ever since then Roy's been trying to apologize for it. Flowers, notes, cards, you name it. Well it was finally getting to all be too much. I told him that he could take me to prom on a few conditions. Stop trying to apologize so much and to never take me to another sports game."

"So, wait a minute. You haven't had a second date with the guy, but his brother has been around enough to call you a bad nickname enough to drive you to the point you want to change your name with only a month and half left of school?" Isabel was confused.

"Oh, did I not mention that every time Roy would show up at my house to apologize Kenny was there too?"

"That's...kind of sad actually. Isn't Kenny like three years older than Roy?"

Pam had was touching up her make-up as she answered. "Yeah. That was another one of the conditions. If we were going to go on any more dates, no more Kenny."

"Good for you!" Isabel was proud of her friend. "Ready to head back out there?"

"You bet!"

Together they left the ladies room and quickly found their respective dates. She'd been prepared to resent Roy based on all the conditions she'd set down for this date. As they song after song was played she reflected that even confronting Kenny in the park and changing her name had made it a special night. Finally, the DJ called out the last song of the night. Pam recognized the opening chords to " _You Were Meant For Me,"_ as Roy led her back out onto the dance floor.

He smiled down at her as his hands went around her waist. "Having a good time?"

She smiled back at him. "I am. Thanks for taking me."

"You bet."

They stared up at each other for a few more seconds until Roy leaned down and kissed her. The rational part of Pam's brain tried to make sense of this new development, but the romantic part of her brain promptly told that part to shut up. She broke off the kiss as he pulled her closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder as they continued to turn in slow circles as the song played on.

* * *

A/N; _Thanks for reading and reviews are welcome as always._


	3. Fractured

A/N; _Pam centered chapter this time. I upgraded the rating due to some adult themes_

* * *

"C'mon babe, I need you here this weekend."

"And like I told you last time you called, I have finals next week and need to study. Just call Kenny or your dad and have one of them pick you up again."

"It's not the same without my baby in the stands to cheer me on. You had finals last year too and made it out to the track then. This can't be any different."

"It's different because if I don't pass these classes I won't be able to continue the illustration program next year."

"Right, next year. If I don't have my best girl there tomorrow I won't make the finals for Sunday. If I don't make the finals I can't win the finals. If I don't win the finals I won't have the prize money to upgrade the bikes. If I can't upgrade the bikes there's no way I can move up in class for the races at the end of the summer."

Pam sighed wearily and held her phone away from her ear before she responded to her boyfriend. She was in some ways glad they were talking over the phone since she knew he'd call her out for the eye roll. The last three years had gone by both to slowly and to fast at the same time. After graduating high school she'd followed her parent's advice and put off college for a year. They were kind enough to let her stay at home while she worked two part time jobs and tried to save as much money as she could to offset the loans she knew she'd have to take out. Now, as she finished up her second year she was proud of the fact she had only about half the debt as some of her classmates. Marywood University was a good fit for her. Small enough that she didn't feel like just another face in the crowd and still in her hometown so she didn't feel lost. She'd even settled into the illustration program easily. The classes on art history, drawing, painting, and figure illustration had been a joy to attend. She only wished Roy would show more than just passing interest in her studies. However, the only thing Roy seemed passionate about was the next upgrade to his dirt bike.

I can't really blame him. He's been racing the things since he was twelve.

"Why don't you just bring whatever it is you're studying to the track? You can hit the books while I hit the jumps. Best of both worlds." Roy's voice was a bit quieter since Pam was still holding the phone away from her face.

"Roy, I've been to every one of your races since the season started," she told him after lifting the phone back up. "I know you think college is a waste of time, but these finals are important to me. Do you know how hard it is to concentrate when a race starts up? Most times I can barely hear myself think."

"Aww, c'mon. It's not that bad. If I can go over a engine manual while there's a race going on I'm sure you can power through one of those paperweights you call a textbook."

"Yeah but-"

"Races start at 12:30. Don't be late. I'll see ya tomorrow babe."

Pam heard the line disconnect. She sat holding the phone to her ear until the busy signal started beeping. Slowly she closed the cell phone and looked back at the to-do list she'd prepared for the weekend. Her plans had not included the hour drive out to the dirt bike track Roy was racing at this weekend. Looking down at her cell phone she punched in a well-used speed dial. Her sister answered on the second ring.

"Hey big sis! This is a surprise. I know you've got finals next week so I figured you'd be hitting the books."

"Hey Penny. That's kind of what I'm calling about. I do have finals next week and I need to study but Roy wants me out to watch him race."

"So, tell him you can't and stay there. He's your boyfriend, not your boss."

Pam leaned back in her chair as she settled into the conversation. "Huh, easy for you to say. If I don't show up he's going to start calling and texting every five minutes. I can see the texts now. Where are you? Are you almost here? Can you get a case of beer on your way?"

"You're allowed to have your own life too you know. I mean seriously, when was the last time you did something just for yourself without Roy?"

"It's been awhile. I just feel bad is all. It's not like it's boring to watch him race. He's actually pretty good and he almost never loses a race when I'm there. Isn't that what being a girlfriend is all about? Being there for him?"

"It is," Penny agreed. "But it's also supposed to go both ways."

"He and Kenny did come to my freshman showcase," Pam said thoughtfully.

Sarcasm was think in Penny's reply. "Yeah, a year ago. And didn't you tell me that Kenny was basically trying to pick up girls or find out if there were any frat parties the entire time?"

Pam couldn't help but smile a bit at the memory. "His face was kinda funny when he found out there's no frats or sororities here."

"Not the point Pam. In two years he's been to one art show and brought his brother along. Sometimes I wonder if he's in a relationship with you or Kenny considering how often they're together. I mean don't get me wrong, I love the way you're really trying to put effort into your relationship."

"Thanks."

"Even still your finals are important. I say you just text him back and say you're not going to be there this weekend and that you're turning off your cell phone to avoid any more distractions."

Pam considered that for a moment before responding. "You know what? You're right. I'll text that I'm not going to be there, but I'm not turning off my phone. I will however leave it in my room and do most of my studying in the library. Deal?"

"Deal. So, in other news, guess what I found while I was at home yesterday?" Penny's voice had a sing-song note to it.

"The ability to not be an annoying little sister?" Pam teased.

"Not quite." Mischief came through the phone line. "Remember how you were telling me you couldn't find your old high school journals?"

Pam sat straight up in her chair with a shocked expression. "No! You didn't go looking through them, did you?"

Now it was Penny's turn to tease Pam. "All these fun drawings and little notes. No wonder you wanted to go into illustration."

"What is it with little sisters and trying to snoop on their big sisters?"

"Ha! There was no trying. There was succeeding. Though one thing did stand out in one of your journals from your senior year."

Pam was sure her face was on fire considering how flushed she felt. "What's that?"

"There's a page ripped out. Now if I know my big sister at all I'd say it was intentional since I've never known her to tear out any sheet from any journal or sketchbook she's ever had."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Pam said smugly.

"Oh, come on Pam. I know for a fact which page is missing. It was one of the few sketches you showed me regularly. What happened to the Jamie page?"

"I did not show you that page, regularly, as you put it!"

"Fine, not regularly, but it was a lot. Especially after the Hockey-game-from-Hell, as you put it. What was it you said again? 'Why couldn't Roy have been as nice as Jamie?'"

A sudden longing gripped Pam's heart. Her sister was right, she had said those things three seemingly long years ago. She shook her head a touch to clear her thoughts before answering her sister. "You're right, but that was a long time ago. I would have loved to have found Jamie again, but it didn't happen. Besides I can't live in the past. Especially if I'm going to pass these finals next week."

"I'm only teasing big sis, but the occasional stroll down memory lane is fun."

Pam did find herself smiling. "Yeah, it is. Thanks for listening to me, it helped a lot."

"Anytime. I take it you gotta get going to the library then?"

"Yeah, the nice thing is that it's open late heading into finals week. Hopefully I'll be able to find a good spot."

"Okay. Thanks for calling. Love ya."

"Love you too Penny."

After ending the call, Pam sent Roy the text saying she would be staying at Marywood for the weekend. She then turned the ringer volume off and opened her desk drawer to keep the phone out of sight. A slip of paper caught her eye as she dropped the phone in the drawer. Smiling to herself she pulled it out. Penny was wrong, the page from her high school journal hadn't been ripped out. It had been carefully folded and cut using an exact-o knife. The sheet of paper had also been sealed in clear packing tape so that the image of a high school basketball player, with the number four on his back, making a jump shot couldn't be smudged. It was a sight that always made her smile. She liked the drawing because it reminded her that even in tough times there were still people in the world who cared about others rather than themselves. It was just the sort of pick-me-up Pam needed before she packed up her books and final projects and made her way to the library.

Hours later she made her way back to her dorm room. She was too tired to do anything but drop her books on her desk and get ready for bed. The next day after breakfast Pam gathered up her books and supplies again. It was a beautiful late spring day and she wasn't about to spend it in a library. Heading outside she settled under a tree and spent the rest of the day preparing for her next week's exams while listening to bird song. It was getting on towards evening when she finally packed up and returned to her room. Remembering the phone she had left in the desk drawer she picked it up to check the what she was sure was the inevitable flood of messages from her boyfriend.

At first, she wasn't disappointed. The first few text messages were what she had expected. More of him basically begging her to meet him out at the track and pick up a case of beer on the way. As she scrolled through the messages her feelings quickly changed, as the words Dad, crash, and hospital appeared across the small screen. As her knees buckled to the floor, it was then that she noticed that in addition to the missed text messages, the phone was also full of missed calls from Roy.

Hastily she punched in his number. He answered on the first ring. "Pam! Finally, you call me back! I've been trying to get a hold of you all day!"

"I know, I know. What happened?"

She'd never heard Roy so upset when he answered her. "It was a huge mess. They were all going for the same line and the next thing we knew bikes were flying everywhere. Dad had just got up and taken off his helmet, when another rider lost control and just crashed right into him. We're all at Wilkes-Barre General Hospital."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Pam told him through the tears stinging her eyes.

"We're in the emergency room right now, but they said something about surgery and after that the ICU."

"Okay. I'm on my way."

Forty-five minutes later Pam was rushing into the operating waiting room. Roy and his family were still dressed in their motocross clothes. Pam rushed to sit down next to him. He had his elbows on his knees and was wringing his hands.

She threw an arm over his shoulder. "Any news?"

He didn't say anything and just shook his head. Pam could only sit in silence with the rest of them. Looking around she saw Roy's mother Lisa, and Kenny pacing back and forth. His sister, Hunter was paging through a magazine but it didn't look like she was reading any of the words on the pages. She recognized other riders from the track who were also gathered in the waiting room with the Anderson clan. Finally, a doctor in scrubs came in the room and made his way towards the group of people.

"Lisa Anderson?"

The group surged forwards towards the doctor with Lisa in the lead. "That's me. How's Jacob?"

The doctor looked over the crowd before speaking again. "It might be best if we talk privately. Would you and your family please join me in here?" He gestured to a side room.

Lisa nodded with tears in her eyes and with a gesture to Roy, Kenny, and Hunter made her way into the room.

"Do you want me with you?" Pam asked Roy as he started following his mother and siblings. Again, words failed Roy and he could only nod. Pam held his hand as she filed in with the others and sat down.

"Your husband suffered a major head injury," the doctor began. "According to the CT scan the ER did before he came up to surgery he had a large blood vessel burst inside his head. We got him up here to surgery as fast as we could, but there was nothing we could do. I'm very sorry to tell you he died."

The tight knot in Pam's throat became overwhelming as all sense of warmth left the room. The world contracted and the only thing she could feel was her hand on Roy's back as he started shaking through his sobs.

* * *

 _Knock! Knock! Knock!_

The apartment door opened quickly and the occupant threw her arms out wide.

"Pam! Oh my god, you sounded so upset on the phone! Come here!"

"Isabel!" Pam rushed to embrace her friend. She felt herself sobbing as Isabel held her in the doorway of the apartment.

"Hey, hey," Isabel said softly as she rubbed Pam's back. "Come on inside and sit down."

Isabel led Pam inside her apartment and the two young women sat down on the couch. Pam could only lean against her friend as her tears flowed like a river. Isabel wrapped her arms around her and gently held Pam. She didn't say a word, instead she offered Pam the gift of silence and support. Neither knew how long they stayed there. Day turned to evening and evening turned to night as they stayed huddled next to each other. Isabel only left Pam's side once to get a box of tissues to set on the cushions next to them. Eventually Pam's breathing slowed and the tears stopped. She didn't move from her position against Isabel. The two sat in silence with Isabel gently rubbing Pam's shoulders.

"Rough week then I take it?"

Pam's voice was soft and hoarse when she answered. "You have no idea."

"Let me go make some tea and you can tell me all about it," Isabel told her as she got up from the couch and started collecting the small mountain of used tissues to take to the trash. Pam only nodded and brought her knees up and hugged them to her chest as her friend left for the kitchen.

Soon Isabel was back with two steaming mugs. She set them down on the coffee table in front of them and put her arm around Pam again. "How are you doing?"

"Terrible," Pam croaked out.

"How's Roy?"

Pam couldn't answer. She just leaned forwards and covered her face with her hands as a fresh wave of tears sprang from her red eyes. Her tea was forgotten as she leaned into her friend's shoulder again. Eventually there were just no more tears to cry. Racked with exhaustion, Pam felt Isabel lower her head to the side of the couch. She didn't stop Isabel from taking off her shoes or gently lowering a blanket over her. Wrapped in what comfort her friend could give Pam fell into a dreamless sleep.

Sunlight streaming in through the slider window eventually woke Pam. When she tried to open her eyes, they were sticky from sleeping with her contacts in. Blinking to restore her vision she sat up and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. Isabel was sitting at her small table reading a book with a mug of tea next to her.

"Hey there," she said as she noticed Pam walking to the table. "Can I get you something to eat or drink?"

"Some tea would be nice. And contact solution if you have any."

"Bathroom's down the hall. I went out to your car last night and found your makeup kit. It has your glasses and contact case in there. There's fresh towels too if you'd like to take a shower."

"All my clothes are still in my car," Pam said quietly.

"I've got some sweats and t-shirts you can change into."

For the first time in days Pam cracked a small smile. "Thanks."

Standing in the shower was still too much for her. She set the water temperature as high as she could tolerate and sat on the floor of the tub holding her legs to her chest. Eventually the hot water ran out and Pam stood up and turned off the tap. After drying off she slipped on the promised change of clothes that Isabel had left on the toilet seat. Pam made her way back out to the kitchen and sat down across the table from her friend. She took a deep breath and was about to start talking, but Isabel cut her off.

"Food first. Nice thing about it being Saturday today is that I don't have to work so we have all day together. I don't have much to offer right now besides cereal though."

"Cereal is fine," Pam told her.

Two bowls of Honey Nut Cheerios later found Pam and Isabel back on the couch sipping warm tea. Isabel wasn't sure what to say, so she just waited for Pam to start. She didn't have to wait long.

"This week has been the worst."

Isabel nodded. "I can imagine. I got your text about Roy's dad. I'm so sorry. Tell him I said that too"

After a night's sleep and breakfast Pam felt the knot in her throat had finally shrunk enough for her to talk. Still when she did, her voice was soft and she paused frequently to swallow or catch her breath. "Thanks, I will. That's not even all of it. I wasn't there at the track when it happened because it was finals week and I blew Roy off so I could study. When I finally answered my phone, Roy had been trying to call me for hours. I left school as soon as I heard and made it to the waiting room. He didn't say it but I knew he was upset with me for not being there, which of course made me feel guilty. I was there when the doctor told us the news that Roy's dad had died. It was horrible. Roy was just sitting there crying. His mother and sister just kind of kneeled down in shock and his brother actually threw a chair against the door. They had to call security to get Kenny to calm down.  
"After that is was kind of a haze. Some friends and extended family showed up to help set up the funeral. I called all my profs at school and told them what was going on. They were all really good about it and gave me times I could come in to make up my exams since the funeral was this past Thursday. Most of my make-up exams were set for yesterday morning since my profs said they had to get grades in Friday afternoon.  
"So, I stayed with Roy and his family most of the week. I got away for one of my finals that I could still take at its normal time on Tuesday. Other than that, I was with Roy all the time. I've never seen him like that. It was like he was just going through the motions. He didn't really say anything at all. Not even during the funeral. Then we all went back to Roy's family's house afterwards. Some friends from the family had left a few meals so we all just sat around the table eating and not really saying anything. Dinner got done and I was going to leave since I had all my make up's the next day. But then Roy grabbed my hand and asked me to stay with him. I-I just couldn't leave him like that.  
"Next thing I know we were in Roy's old room and then our clothes were on the floor and he was on top of me and his hands were all over me. I didn't know what to do or say. He didn't really say anything either. Then I feel him pushing against me and then into me. It wasn't at all like how I thought it would be. It wasn't sexy, or romantic, or anything like they say your first time should be. It just hurt, a lot actually. So, he's on top and I still don't know what to do so I just laid there with this big picture of Pamela Anderson in her Baywatch swimsuit looking down at me from where Roy had tacked it up on his ceiling.  
"He got done and just rolled over and fell asleep. I just laid there with my back to him. I was kinda glad he was asleep, because I started crying. Eventually I guess I fell asleep at some point because I woke up and everything was still a mess and our clothes were still on the floor. I got up and tried to clean up, but Roy was still asleep and I didn't want to wake him up. Then I saw the clock. I'd already missed two of my make-up exams. By the time I'd gotten back to school I'd missed the other ones. My profs couldn't do anything. They told me they'd given me a chance but I'd missed it so they had to give me incompletes for the semester. My advisor couldn't do anything either. The worst part is I have to wait until next spring semester to re-take those classes since they're not offered in the summer or fall semester."

"Oh Pam. I'm so sorry." Isabel couldn't think of any other words to say.

"Thanks. I had to pack up my dorm room, which sucked of course. I hope I got everything because I was basically crying the whole time. I called Roy to tell him everything. He was finally starting to talk kind of like his old self. He told me there's an opening for a receptionist where he works. Hopefully if that works out I'll be able to pay off some of my loans while I wait to re-take my classes."

"Roy said there's a job at the paper place he works at? He didn't ask about your classes or anything? Just trying to make sure I heard you right." Concern was clear in Isabel's voice.

Pam nodded. "It didn't really surprise me. He's just lost his dad and to be honest he's told me that he's never really seen the point of college. It's not the worst job in the world. It'll be better than flipping burgers or waiting tables that's for sure. I can also be there for Roy if he needs me. So, I got all packed up, but I was still feeling horrible, and I didn't want to bother Roy anymore which is why I called you."

"Have you talked to your family?"

"A bit. Penny said I could crash at her place while I find an apartment since my parents are now two hours away."

"You're welcome here too you know," Isabel offered. "It's only like twenty minutes to Scranton and I can clear out of the second bedroom for you."

Pam squeezed her friends knee. "Thanks. You've been so great. I think I'm going to head to my sister's place though."

Isabel nodded at her. "I understand." They sat in silence on the couch until Isabel nudged Pam in the side with a small smirk on her face. "He really had a poster of Pamela Anderson on his wall?"

Pam took a deep breath. "I know you're trying to cheer me up, but honestly, I'd really rather not remember that part. I'd always thought sex should be like this wonderful thing. It just wasn't though."

"Sorry," Isabel turned her eyes down and finished her tea. "How about a movie? Some good clean animated fun?"

"I think I could go for that. Anything to keep my mind off what a horrible week this has been."

Isabel got to her feet and walked over to a bookcase that held her DVD's. "Toy Story, Oliver and Company, or The Great Mouse Detective?"

"Oliver and Company," Pam answered with the barest hint of a smile.

"Sounds great. In fact, how does an all-day movie marathon sound? We can order pizza later."

"As long as it's not horror or some sappy rom-com. I'm not really in the mood."

They spent the rest of the day eating popcorn, pizza, and ice cream with their movies. Occasionally Pam would lapse into another crying spell. Isabel was by her side through it all. They were halfway through An American Tale: Fievel Goes West, when Isabel noticed Pam had fallen asleep on her shoulder. As she he done the previous night, Isabel gently laid Pam down on the cushions and draped a blanket over her, before turning off the lights so she could rest.

* * *

A/N; _As always reviews are welcome_


	4. Looking Ahead

A/N; _Jim centered chapter this time around. I hope you enjoy_

* * *

"This is exactly what you've been here for, man! Give me five years, ten at the most, to raise some real capital and you, me, Wade, and Lucas; we'll be unstoppable!"

Jim raised his bottle of beer to his lips and took a drink to consider what his friend was saying. Drake had a good point. Jim was about to graduate with a degree in sports marketing and the idea of getting in on the ground floor of a new marketing company was tempting. "What do we do in the meantime?"

Drake leaned across the table to his friend. "I was thinking about that actually. There are tons of sales jobs out there. I know you said you've thought about heading back to Scranton. Go for it! Find a house to rent, maybe get a roommate or two to offset those costs some more. Find a job that has a good commission structure, maybe a few bonuses or two. I'll bet if you don't go hog wild you could pay off your loans within a few years. Maybe if things go good with that girlfriend of yours and you two get really serious we can add her to the team too. We'll keep in touch and I'll let you know how much the rest of us have to put in and we'll be up and running!"

"Hey! Now there's an idea!" Jim agreed. "Actually, she's supposed to meet me here in a few minutes. Got time to stick around and pitch this idea to her?"

"I'll stick around, but how about you pitch it to her? Consider it your first interview." Drake raised his glass to Jim with a smirk on his face.

"Done," Jim clinked his bottle against the proffered glass and the two friends took a swig to seal the deal. Noticing Drake looking over his shoulder he turned and saw his girlfriend walk into the bar and scan the crowd of him.

"Jess! Over here!" He called out and waved her over. Jim stood up to scoot back one of the empty chairs from their high-top table. He gave her a quick kiss on her cheek as she sat down before he also resumed his seat. "Thanks for coming out. Have you met my buddy Drake before?"

Jess was peeling her light coat off her shoulders to rest it on her chair back. "I don't think so." She extended her hand and smiled at the other man. "Jessica Coleman."

"Drake Johnson. A pleasure to meet you." Drake said as he shook her hand.

She turned back to Jim. "So, one last night out before our last finals week?"

"That's the plan. What are you drinking?"

"Oh, I don't know. Something good," she said as she started to peruse the cocktail menu.

"Whatever you want. My treat," Jim told her.

The offer was a common one for the two of them. Usually Jim would see Jess's eyes light up at the offer. Tonight though, something was off. She didn't smile warmly back up at him like normal, instead kept her eyes downturned in the menu. Jim felt a pang of concern knit his eyebrows slightly closed. "Hey, you okay?"

She looked back up at them with a start. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just got a lot on my mind with exams coming up is all."

"Fair enough," he told her. She figured out what she wanted and after ordering the three made small talk until her cocktail arrived at the table. Jim looked back at Drake who gestured back to him to start his pitch. Jim took another small swig of beer before turning back to Jess.

"So, Drake and I have an idea. Between him, me, and a couple of our other friends we'll have a marketing major, a graphic design major, and two business majors. The way we figure it we've got the makings of a great start up. The only thing is what to start up. What's been one of your best extra-curricular experiences here at school?"

Jess considered for a few seconds. "Other than hanging out with friends, I'd have to say being on the field hockey team."

"Exactly!" Jim told her. "Field hockey. Drake here was on the intramural indoor soccer team and you know I was on the 4 on 4 basketball team. The other guys were also heavily involved with campus sports in some way. I don't know about you Drake, but it seems like the last four years have just flown by because we were always doing something on the field or court. A wise man once said, 'do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life.'  
"We've got an idea to do just that. We all know that none of us are good enough to go pro, but that doesn't mean our passions have to die. Playing as long as we have in all sorts of sports means we know what drives those who are good enough to go pro. We speak their language. Now the real superstars get the huge contracts. The quarterbacks, the point guards, the power hitters and the like. But without their teammates behind them there's no way anyone makes the highlight reel.  
"What we're talking about is a brand-new marketing company but not aimed at the big superstars. Everyone goes for the superstars and there's no way a new start up can compete with big companies that already have contacts everywhere. Instead we focus on the utility players that make superstars possible. We start getting them endorsement deals in the sort of local markets the big boys tend to ignore.  
"Fly to close to the sun and your wings melt and you fall. Keep it low and slow and you'll soon soar. All we need is a smart, energetic, and creative person to head up our advertising section. Preferably someone with a degree in advertising." Jim gestured to her.

Jess looked back and forth between the two of them with shock on her face. "You guys can't be serious? You're not even out of college yet and you're already planning to start your own company? Where are you going to get the money? Six months, that's all you've got until you either start paying back your loans, defer them, or default. You're going to set up a brand-new company, with no experience, no location, no contacts, and no clients all in six months?"

It wasn't the response Jim had been hoping for. Still he knew she had valid concerns. "Those are all great points. When we do this, we're going to do it smart. No, we're not planning on starting right out of school. All those things you just said, no experience, no building, tons of loan debt? You're right, they're expensive and regardless of what scholarships any of us did or didn't get, we all have loans to pay. So, we take our time before really getting off the ground. Philly is only a few hours away. New York a few more after that. Big time cities with a lot of the utility players we're talking about. There's also a huge untapped small city market. Think about the minor-league players who know they're going to be called up. Big opportunity there to be the marketing team for a player just starting out their career. So, we find what jobs we can while still doing market research, building savings, paying off our loans, that sort of thing. Get ourselves set up to tackle all those great concerns you've got."

Jess was quiet for a moment and kept her eyes on her drink before she looked up and responded. "You know guys, we've got finals next week and this the last night we'll have to enjoy ourselves before then. I know you've given a lot of thought about all of this, but I don't really want to think about stuff like this. How about we just have a nice night instead?"

Jim let out a sigh, but quickly stilled the disappointment in his face and cracked a small grin. "Sure, it's a lot to think about anyway."

The three of them quickly dropped into the easy and familiar conversation of good friends. Later when Drake excused himself to the restroom Jim called the waitress over and placed an order. After she left Jim turned and gave a sly wink to Jess as Drake came back to the table. A few minutes later the waitress returned.

"Hey bud, I got us an order of teriyaki wings for the table. Feel free," Jim gestured to the plate of chicken wings the waitress had left.

"Hey thanks, man, I was starting to get a little hungry." Drake picked up a wing and bit in with gusto.

Jim leaned in close to Jess and quietly counted down. "Three...two...one...now." As he said the last word he pointed to his friend.

Across the table Drake had been looking curiously at Jim. His face changed to one of surprise and pain as he realized the wings Jim had ordered were not covered in teriyaki sauce, but the hottest sauce the bar had to offer. Sweat beaded on his forehead and tears came to his eyes as he started fanning at his face. He grabbed for his water, which proved to be a worse idea as Jim had also emptied the contents of the salt shaker in the glass while Drake had been away from the table. Tears were in Jim and Jess's eyes too but it was due to laughing so hard.

"Dude, here looks like you need it," Jim finally told Drake as he got his laughter under control and slid his friend one of two glasses of Jack Daniels he had ordered with the wings.

The whiskey did much to soothe the burning sensation. "Good one," Drake told him while still coughing. "You do know what you've got to do now though."

Jim picked up his own hot wing. "It was worth it to see your reaction." Between the two of them they finished off the remaining wings as well as anther glass of whiskey. Jess only looked on, shaking her head at the pair while munching on her onion rings. Soon they finished the last of their food and drink and headed for the door. Jim climbed into the passenger's seat of Jess's car for the ride back to the house Jim rented with another friend.

"I think I left my jacket here the other night. Mind if I come up and look for it?" Jess asked when she pulled into the driveway.

"Sure."

Together they made their way up to his room. She got down and looked under the bed while Jim look a glance through the closet. It didn't take her long to find the garment.

"Here it is! Along with one of my shirts. Now how did that get under here?" She asked with a mischievous giggle.

"Got me. I'm sure my attention was otherwise occupied," Jim deadpanned.

Something else under the bed grabbed Jess's attention. "What's this?" She pulled a small shoe box out from under the bed. She read aloud what had been written on the lid. " _M-A-F-1-2_. What's in here?"

"Oh that, it's nothing," Jim said hastily as he got a glimpse of the box. He hadn't seen the box in years but instantly recognized the initials written on the lid was and the contents it held. "Just some stuff that my parents gave me from my old room at home."

"Jim, it's not nothing otherwise you wouldn't be blushing." She opened the box and looked inside. Inside were a few folded sheets of paper as well as some very rough sketches. A girl with curly hair, glasses, and a turtleneck sweater started back at her. "Who's this?"

"It's kinda embarrassing," Jim told her while scratching the back of his head. "Just a girl I met back in high school. Honestly, I haven't even thought of her or that box for like, four years."

"Did you draw these pictures?"

"Yeah, I know they're not that great. I'm not an artist or anything."

Jess set the sketches aside and pulled out the folded papers. Unfolding them revealed a printed off chat log between two people. "Jim, people don't print off chat logs of people they don't care about. Let me guess though, you're 'bballer' and she's 'artfan.'"

"I was in high school. I only even met her in person once, and that right there is the only time we ever talked online. I told you, it's really not that big of a deal."

"Then why keep all this stuff all these years?"

"I boxed it up after I promised my sister to not live in the past and it's all stayed boxed up till now. My parents moved to a new house last year and were trying to get rid of stuff so they sent it to me and I guess it just found a place under there."

Jess seemed to accept Jim's reasoning before she put everything back in the box and set it aside. "There's something else, Jim."

"Uh oh. That doesn't sound good." He sat next to her on the edge of his bed.

"Yeah," she started. "I know you're pumped about this idea you and Drake have got going. I didn't want to say anything in front of him or ruin our night at the bar, but I can tell you right now, that even though I'm flattered, I don't think it's for me."

"How come?"

"Because just before I met you guys at the bar I got an email offering me a paid internship in San Francisco after we graduate. I'll be leaving for California in about two weeks."

"Oh." Jim didn't know what to say. He'd been with Jess since their freshman year.

"Probably not the news you wanted to hear, I know."

Jim's throat was tight. "Yeah," was the only thing he was able to croak out.

She rubbed his back to take away some of the sting. "Hey, it's not like we didn't have a good run, right? I mean, we had some good times."

He could only nod as he didn't trust himself to say anything. He'd experienced many firsts with her. She'd been his first serious girlfriend, first, and to this point only, lover, and the first girl he'd brought home to meet his family among other things.

"You're strong Jim, I hope you know that. It's one of the things I saw first about you. Not the lanky goofy guy you try to be. Remember that." Again, he could only nod his head. She kissed him on the cheek before she left.

He didn't know how long he sat on the edge of his bed. Eventually the shoe box resting on his pillow caught his eye. He hadn't been lying when he said it had been years since he looked at what it contained. Setting the lid to one side he picked up one of the sketches he'd drawn. The images sparked memories that hadn't surfaced in years. He picked up the picture he'd drawn right after he'd logged off and printed his chat with Morgan. He'd tried his best to recall the way her curly hair had fallen over her glasses. Setting the picture aside, he unfolded the pages he'd printed off. Reading the conversation he'd had that night helped to soothe the pain in his heart and he was able to fall asleep easier that night.

* * *

 _Why didn't anyone tell me it would be this hard to find a job? You'd think after three months there would have been something better than the cell phone kiosk. And who does job interviews at Chili's anyway?_ Jim took another glace around the restaurant looking for any sight of the man who had set up the lunch interview. He checked his watch for the umpteenth time and squirmed again in the booth. He pulled at the tie around his neck his father had insisted he wear. More than anything he wanted to unbutton the top button and pull some slack in the knot. However, he knew first impressions mattered and he wanted to come across looking good.

"Still doing alright?"

Jim looked from his glass of water back to the server standing at the end of his table. "Yeah, I've got a job interview with the manager of a paper company. He must be running late."

"Let me guess, Michael Scott of Dunder-Mifflin Paper," the server said with half-groan, half-apology.

"Yeah, how'd you guess?"

Jim didn't catch the look of long-suffering acceptance from his server. "He just comes here a lot. The fact he's running late is pretty typical of him. But if you're interviewing for a job with him I might recommend having an Awesome Blossom, ready on the table for when he gets here. The guy loves the things."

"Yeah, sure why don't we go with that." Couldn't hurt, it is a lunch interview after all.

"Coming right up," and the server walked away to fill the order. He was back within five minutes with the appetizer. Jim thanked him and resumed his vigil of the front door. Soon a new voice spoke from behind him.

"Ah, an Awesome Blossom! Excellent choice good sir! Don't mind if I do!"

Jim looked behind him to see a slightly short man in a business suit and black slicked back hair walk around him and without preamble or permission reach over to grab some fried onion. He was further shocked when the man slid into the booth across from him and pulled the sauce cup to his side.

"Um...can I help you?" Jim asked.

"Sure," the man said. "If you see the waitress ask for another cup of sauce. I get hungry when I do interviews."

"Are you Michael Scott of Dunder-Mifflin Paper?"

"The one and only!" Michael said with a flourish of his onion petal that also sprayed drops of sauce across the table. "You're quick to catch on, young James. So, forget all that boring crap other managers ask. I want to know the real you. What makes you tick." He emphasized the last word by poking Jim in the middle of his forehead.  
"So, who's your favorite comedian and favorite role they played?"

Jim shook his head to overcome some of the shock he was feeling. Still not sure if this Michael was being serious so he almost blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "I'd have to say...um...Robin Williams in 'Dead Poets Society.'"

"Ah James! Classic!" Without warning Michael stood up on the table top, put his hand over his heart, and shouted across the restaurant. "Oh captain, my captain!"

The manager of Chili's was less amused as he came over to the table. "Michael! How many times have we told you that you can't get on top of anything?"

"That's what she said!" Michael called out as he climbed off the table, laughing at his own joke.

Jim could only sit in his chair and watch. He gave the manager a look and cocked an eyebrow silently asking, _is this guy for real_?

The manager only sighed as Michael resumed his seat. "Climb onto the table again and we'll cancel your reservation for your awards ceremony next week."

"Fine," Michael pouted. As the manager turned to leave Michael blew a raspberry at his disappearing back. _"Pthbbbbbbbbbb!"_ He turned back to Jim. "What did you think of my performance? Williams is hard to get down. He's got so many voices and characters."

Jim still wasn't quite sure what to think. "Yeah, no! I think you nailed it."

"So, James, may I call you James?" Michael looked back across the table while grabbing another piece of Awesome Blossom.

"It's Jim actually."

"Jim, Jim, Jimmy, Jimbo, Jim Bob, Slim Jim, the Jim-meister. I was watching you from across the room before I came over here. You stayed here even though I made you think I was late and even had an Awesome Blossom waiting. You know what that says, Mr. Jim?"

 _That you're kind of a creep? No, he'd be expecting something like that. Wait a minute, he's being serious. He really is that kind of man-child. Two can play this game._ Jim leaned his head over the table and gestured for Michael to move in close so he could lower his voice. "That I actually saw you first and knew you were there. Clearly you knew that I had seen you but you didn't know that I knew, you knew I had seen you. I however did know that you knew I'd seen you but didn't want to give away that I knew that you knew. So, it gave you a great chance to fake surprise me instead of giving away that you didn't know that I knew you knew. You know?"

Michael was slightly nodding his head at Jim during the small speech with a thoughtful look to his face. It was almost as if Jim could see the cogs trying to turn in the other man's head as he tried to figure out a response.

"I do know, Jim," Michael finally said gravely as he finished off the last of the Awesome Blossom. "I also know that you're just the kind of person the Dunder-Mifflin family needs. Someone who knows. Scranton Business Park, tomorrow, 10:00 A.M., be there!"

 _Holy crap, that worked!? Who says you can't learn anything from cartoons._ Jim held out his hand. "You got it!"

Michael grasped Jim's hand and pumped it up and down almost violently. "You won't regret this Jim. I can tell. Welcome to Dunder-Mifflin! Here's a welcome home packet my stupid HR guy told me to give you if I hired you."

Jim looked down at the soft cover employee manual Michael had dropped on the table. If nothing this should be interesting.

"You've got to be joking! That worked!?"

"That's basically what I thought! I gotta tell you Ris, if that's what the interview was like, maybe selling paper won't be quite as bad as I thought it would be."

Jim had raced back to the house he was sharing with a friend after the interview. After changing back into a t-shirt and jeans he'd dialed his sister's number to tell her about his new job. She'd been his confidant ever since he'd taken her to prom. If there was anyone Jim could always talk to it was his little sister Larissa.

"Have you done your homework on the place? A lot of times companies hardly offer any base pay and expect you to rely mainly on commission. I mean really how much commission can you really make selling paper?"

"Michael might be a bit odd, but I did call their corporate office before the interview. I also got an employee handbook that had a lot of info too. One of their VP's gave me an overview of their commission policy. Looks like they mainly emphasize their salespeople to maintain current contracts. There is a commission cap on new accounts, but they said few people reach that it. There is base pay which is decent enough. I doubt I'll be buying a new car anytime soon, but I should be able to pay off my student loans fairly quickly."

Larissa sounded pleased when she responded. "Well that's good. Is this going to be enough for you? I always figured you'd be doing something with the Sixers or the Eagles or something like that."

"Hey, for now I'm just glad I have a job. Do I want to spend the rest of my life selling paper? Of course not, who would? But it's a big step up pay wise from the cell phone kiosk. Also, in a few years Drake and they guys will have the resources to get our marketing company up and running."

"What does Jess think about this new paper job?"

Jim was glad she couldn't see the grimace that appeared on his face. He still hadn't told her about his now ex-girlfriend. "Umm..."

"I know that tone. Something's wrong. Oh, my gosh! Did you break up with her? Did she break up with you? What happened?"

She is way too smart for her own good. "She actually broke up with me. It was about two weeks before I graduated."

"Jim, just because I'm studying overseas for the summer, doesn't mean you get to not tell me details like this," she scolded him.

"This is the first time you've called since it happened!"

"Phone service may sometimes suck here in Africa, but email still works all the time. No excuses. Now, what happened?"

Jim sighed, sat down at his desk chair and propped his feet up on his bed. "What's to tell? She got an internship in San Francisco just before finals week. A couple days after commencement she was in California. She tried to let me down easy I guess. I don't know I've never been dumped before."

"Did you try and stop her, or offer to go with her?"

A hint of anger came into his tone of voice. "What kind of question is that?"

"Well, it matters because if you tried any of those things it would have meant you were in love with her. So, were you in love with her or not?"

"I guess not, since she's on the other side of the country and I'm still in Scranton," he growled.

"Hey don't get mad at me bro if you don't know what it actually means to love someone other than family. If I remember right you didn't even really go after her when you first started dating. Correct me if I'm wrong but didn't you tell me that you two basically starting hanging out more and more until a certain wise sister of yours drilled it through that thick skull of yours that your friend-who-is-a-girl was in actual fact your girlfriend?"

" _Grrraawr!_ " Jim made a frustrated noise at his ceiling. "You make it really hard to be mad at you, you know that?"

"Of course I do. Younger cuter sister prerogative," came the smug reply.

"So no, I didn't love her if your measure for love is to go after the other one."

"It's one of the measures of love, there are others too. But if it's love you fight for it, not just let it walk away from without saying anything. Otherwise it's not love you're feeling, it's infatuation, lust, or a host of other things."

"You were a lot easier to talk to about this kind of stuff before you went into that psychology program."

"Don't try changing the subject. Think about it, has there ever been a girl you've actively fought to stay in contact with?"

Jim's gaze glanced to an old shoebox set on one of his shelves. "Only one comes to mind, and oddly enough it was a girl you yourself told me I had to get over rather than, what was it you said? 'Live in the past?'"

"I most certainly did not tell you to not 'live in the past.' I told you to not pass on what's in front of you for what could have been. Big difference there, buddy-boy."

"Enlighten me."

"The first one is focused solely on feeling sorry for yourself based on nothing you can change anymore while the second is about what's right here and what's out there in the future. Also, you did everything you could to find Morgan. Can you honestly say that you did everything you possibly could have done to try hold onto the relationship you had with Jess?"

"No, I didn't do everything I could have done," he admitted after pausing to consider the question. "There was probably a lot I could have done but didn't."

"Right, which just proves my point that you didn't love Jess. I'm sure it was a good relationship for you. I'm sure you had a lot of good times, which I DO NOT need or want the details of, by the way. It's okay if Jess wasn't the great love of your life. She did teach you how to be a good boyfriend. That's something most guys don't get. She was smart and brave enough to get you through all that awkward how-to-be-a-good-guy stuff most guys struggle with. So yeah, I'm sure it wasn't fun having her break up with you, but you'll be set for which ever lucky lady you find next."

"Why do I feel like I should be laying on a leather couch right now?"

"Huh, good luck. There's no way you'll be able to afford my rates once I get out of school."

"What? No family discount for psycho-analysis?"

Laughter came across the phone line. "Ha! Here's your analysis. You're psycho! That'll be five hundred dollars for the visit. I take cash or card."

"Five hundred bucks! What happened to five cents like from the "Peanuts," cartoons. You know like what Lucy charges Charlie Brown when she's playing psychologist?"

"That's the difference between playing psychologist and being one, dear brother of mine." Larissa's smug tone was back. "Also, an added fee since I had to stay up late to talk to you since you're so far behind me."

Jim just chuckled at his sister. "Thanks, I do miss these conversations of ours, annoying as they can be at times. I'll try to call and email more often. Now that I have a better job hopefully it'll be easier."

"I appreciate that. But enough about all of that. What else can you tell me about this new job?"

"I start tomorrow, I'll do my best to sell paper and paper products in and around Scranton and Wilkes-Barre. Umm...I'm pretty sure I'll get a lunch break at some point. I mean it's an office job so not all that active or exciting. It starts out with two weeks paid vacation, but I can accumulate more the longer I stay there. Full benefits as well so that'll be nice. I don't know, it's a job."

"Have you met any of your new coworkers yet?"

"Not yet. Michael, my new boss, was the only one there at the interview. Apparently, Dunder-Mifflin keeps normal business hours so since he wants me there at ten rather than nine I guess they'll all be there when I show up tomorrow. Now that's enough about me, what have you been up to?"

Larissa leapt into telling him stories about the work-study program she was attending. She told him about the various wildlife she'd seen and the relationships she'd been forming. The talked for another hour before she finally admitted it was too late for her and she needed to get to bed. Reluctantly they ended their call with Larissa extracting a promise from her brother that he email her about his first day at his new job.

As he got ready for bed Jim reflected on what his sister had told him. _Jess was a good first girlfriend. Fun, funny, sexy, but yeah, Larissa was right. I never once thought we'd end up married or anything. Goodbye, Jess. Thanks for four good years, but now it's time for something new._

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A/N; _Reviews welcome as always._


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